


Dreams OR Cotton Candy

by DudeSmashMyWindows



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Character Study, Dreams, Gen, Hannibal (Mentioned) - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Other, Self-Hatred, Watching Someone Sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:15:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25622734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DudeSmashMyWindows/pseuds/DudeSmashMyWindows
Summary: Murdoc couldn't remember what brought him here. But there he was.
Relationships: Murdoc Niccals & Stuart "2D" Pot
Kudos: 19





	Dreams OR Cotton Candy

Murdoc couldn't remember what brought him here.

He rarely ever did.

Maybe because he didn't care about the little details of life. Maybe because at heart, he knew no matter what he did in this world, Hell awaited him in the next – and that was the realm that really mattered.

Or maybe it was the simple fact that his brain was constantly drowned in alcohol.

At any rate, here he was, in the great overgrown garden that surrounded Kong Studios.

The tall gates stood in front of him about six feet away, and the perpetually cloudy sky overhead weighed on his shoulders. When he looked up, he got the feeling it was scowling at him.

Laying in the grass beneath him was 2D. He was on his back, his face turned to the sky, his two missing teeth exposed in a childish smile, his legs twisted in the kind of pretzel only he could manage to create without pain. He was sound asleep, breathing slow and heavily. Zoned out on painkillers, looked like.

Murdoc sighed as he stared at him. He knew he should just kick the blue-haired freak. He was dying to.

But for whatever reason, he knew he wouldn't.

For whatever reason, this time he was just going to leave him alone.

At least for now.

He took a drag from his cigarette and thoughtfully blew the smoke into the sky.

There was a large bruise on 2D's cheek, he'd noticed. Probably caused by Murdoc himself, though he couldn't remember. He'd hit 2D so many times; he couldn't keep track. And 2D smacked into things so many times he couldn't keep track of that either...

He had a strong distaste for 2D; he always treated him with condescension and liked nothing better than beating him into the ground, watching his spirit fall and crumble.

Just the other day, they'd been recording in the studio, and 2D had forgotten a word. It wasn't anything to make a big deal out of; he'd been doing great, and they already had several takes in the bag. But despite knowing this as well as anyone, Murdoc had taken the opportunity to yell and curse at him, giving him a bloody nose before storming out the studio room.

“I hate it!” 2D had cried out, cut to the quick. “I cawn't do anythin' he likes, I cawn't - I cawn't - I cawn't do it!”

Russel tried to comfort him, and Murdoc thought he could hear Noodle's voice, too. But it was clear 2D wasn't looking for their approval. He wanted _his_. Murdoc's.

The older man was well-aware that Stuart looked up to him, almost idolized him. It was fairly obvious after all, from the way 2D followed him around, a starstruck look in his black eyes, to the way he'd find things like Murdoc's old rubber cross or abandoned chains and hang them in his room as sacred items.

He was like a little brother. A fretful, gormless, freaky little brother, clinging onto Murdoc out of some blind devotion that the other frankly could not understand.

**Brother.**

The word brought recollections to Murdoc. Memories of things past.

Hannibal, his older brother, had been a living terror to him when they were kids. He couldn't even keep track of how many times Hannibal had made him bleed, or unable to walk, or forced him to wear long sleeves at school so a teacher wouldn't see his bruises. It was just a normal, everyday occurrence.

And while at first Murdoc had been hurt by his brother's attitude, eventually he just resigned himself to it, and even got angry.

_Fuck him. Just fuck him. He ain't a hero. He's zilch, zero._

Murdoc watched the ashes of his burned-out cigarette fall into the grass.

Hannibal's blood flowed within him. As much as Murdoc hated him, he had to admit they were two of a kind. They shared the same soul... and it was fucking obvious.

He shuddered. He didn't like reflection. Or introspection. He needed to get more drunk...

“ _Cotton... candy..._ ”

The hoarse voice made Murdoc look at 2D, who had mumbled the words in his sleep.

He was dreaming of the fair.

His father, Mr. Tusspot owned one, and it was where 2D had spent many crazy hours as a child.

It was where his love of colorful, wacky things was born and nurtured, and even now the sound of a calliope, or the bright lights of a carousel, made his heart beat faster and his senses blossom with nostalgia.

In his dreams he wandered through the fairground in the dead of night, looking up at the pitch black sky and wondering how soon it would rain.

A tall roller coaster beckoned him overhead, the phantom screams of those who had ridden it before echoing in the air.

Balloons floated aimlessly across the dying grass, lost and abandoned.

Forgotten.

He took in the sights and sounds, walking carefree as the taste of cotton candy melted on his tongue. What a magical confection. Light and airy, like a cloud, and so, so sweet...

 _Innocence_. The word jumped into Murdoc's mind without him realizing it.

2D was so fucking innocent. It wasn't that he was ignorant, in the way children are supposed to be. No, 2D had been around. He'd seen some shit in his life, and he knew the hard facts of life. But the way his mind _processed_ these things. It was so stupidly innocent.

Odd.

Crack-headed.

But... ironically, Murdoc could relate, at least a little. It reminded him of his own youth, when he could look at the world through rays of sunshine, before he'd had that attitude beat out of him.

It irked him to see it reflected in Stuart.

At least it usually did, but as he looked down at the kid, who was practically drooling from his stupid dream about cotton candy, he felt an odd sense of fondness.

“Good nightmares, Face-ache,” he muttered, scruffing 2D's hair for a moment. Then he headed out down the street, intent on getting properly wasted.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for making it to the end, friends. Comment if there's anything you'd like me to write, I'd love to take a commission. Try to anyway, heh. Seeya!
> 
> P.S. I'm the dude who smashed the window.


End file.
